And now the royalty are suspended;

placed in special measures. The Household Cavalry

kick their heels on popular street corners,

watching kettles boil until seconded

overseas to bugger those who'd like a burkha

to cover Her Majesty's picture.

 

Miss Camilla has been cautioned for frightening

the corgis and the treasurer's been collared 

with his hands in young men's trousers.

Prince Phil must pull his finger out in art

and social science or face endless

cocktail parties in the land of Bongo-Bongo.

 

There are murmurs of tomatoes selling memoirs

to the red tops, and people in glass houses

shouldn't throw at modern buildings.

Her Highness isn't heeding the calls

for her retirement or the long line

of bookmakers at the portcullis.

 

The boys are worried; the stag night capers

have been captured and the video's gone viral,

starring Bosnians, Bulgarians, champers

and black stockings. The Civil List arouses

nausea and nostalgia; but never

in equal measure; we are not in this together.